Progress
by DSieya
Summary: A montage — random excerpts of Ron's thoughts over seven years. [oneshot, rated for language, rhr, written before dh]


**1.  
**You look at her and don't like her. Fast words, fast eyes, fast mind. What does that add up to? Snobbish know-it-all.

_Please let her be a Ravenclaw_, you think as you absently rub your nose.

-

Snobbish? Yes. Know-it-all? Most definitely.

Fit to be a Gryffindor? Without a doubt. (Halloween was a fun day.)

-

Bloody hell, was she a genius.

**2.  
**You've really never seen her make a mistake before. It was all the more shocking when you found out she did. Never mind the tail and yellow eyes.

You decide to tease her about it in a few years when the risk of having your head blown off is slightly lessened.

-

_"_What_ does she understand?"_

_"Loads more than I do."_

-

You don't think you've ever cared about Quidditch less in your life. Not with her lying, rigid, in the hospital wing; a restless sleep for the three of you.

-

You can't decide what's making you happier - her with your arms around you, or her with her arms around you because you just helped bag the House Cup -- again.

**3.  
**She was a genius, yes. But is ten classes a day really necessary? How in the hell was that _possible_! Damn girl bloody _out_ of her mind --

Where'd she go?

-

Damn him damn him damn him. Only you were allowed to call her that.

-

Damn her damn her _damn her_! First the Firebolt (unfounded!) and now _she_ won't take responsibility for Scabbers' death?

Smartest girl you know, most responsible, and she can't even admit that all the evidence points!

You can't _stand_ her!

-

Well, Hagrid sure has a way of making people feel guilty.

You swear you would have ended it had not she come up first.

-

You can't be blamed. Hell, you're sure _everyone_ admired her for just walking out like that - save Lavender or Parvati, but they didn't count.

You're never gonna look at her in the same way again.

-

Never again.

**4.  
**Yeah, you know he didn't do it. You don't tell her that; instead you close up and change topics whenever she starts scolding you. (Always.)

-

You don't even know what the hell you were on, anyway. She was right for calling you a prat all those millions of times. Perhaps you should apologize to her, too.

-

New eyes, new view. You watch her; she moves, her robes flow and swirl around her ankles; her hair swings; she laughs and her brown eyes light up then the world lights up with them.

_She really is a girl_, you think.

-

She's red in the face and disheveled and ten feet away and she's yelling and you're yelling and arguing about something that you can't think about because all your mind is telling you is how beautiful she actually is.

(What point are you trying to make, anyway?)

-

You felt like hugging her, examining her new pet insect in the jar with familiar marks around the eyes. You turn and watch her, completely proud of herself. Bloody hell, she was simply brilliant.

**5.  
**Shows what she knows. Everyone does think that he's the best, don't they? Big shock when they found out that you were actually above him in one respect...

-

You smile, looking sideways at your new broom and then down at your bright red robes.

-

_"Weasely is our King..."_

You keep your head down.

_"Weasely is our King..."_

You know both are sending over furious looks.

_"He always lets the Quaffle in..."_

Why in the hell did you do this!

_"Weasely is our King..."_

Quit. Quit. Before you embarrass yourself. Like that hasn't happened yet.

Everyone's staring. _And your cheek has a lip-shaped brand on it so you just keep going and trytrytry to ignore them (it's not working)._

-

You smell the perfume and like it because the musty scent of wood and parchment and all it does is remind you of her; you walk out of the store, carrying the tiniest bag securely in one large hand.

-

He lied and covered himself up but your stomach gnaws too much to even care (how'sdad?where'sdad?thankgodhesawit).

-

Just about to fall asleep, you repeat the name in your head. That comes easily. You mouth it, and your lips hesitate at the second syllable.

You practice and practice because when the time comes you'll be able to say it.

-

_"And that perfume is really unusual, Ron."_

-

You stomp into the Hall splattered with mud and feeling especially grumpy; light blue eyes raise to see her regard you then a split second later turn back to comfort him who also looked especially grumpy.

-

You lay in bed one night and think of her.

-

You couldn't rescue her (_oh and you hate it when she's in the hospital wing) _but she isn't dead. He's glum and she's worried and you're worried and everyone casts sympathetic looks at him because there seems to be more weight on his shoulders than he's letting on.

-

You lay in bed the last night, and think of her.

**6.  
**She kissed him! _Him_! That bloody round-shouldered... duck-footed... too-dumb-to-even-say-her-name-correctly...

And, hell, you can kiss whoever the _hell_ you please...

-

You (sorta) knew she'd be angry. But were birds really necessary?

-

If you didn't know better, you would think that at times you would miss having her around, you would miss the correspondence - even the _fights_. If you didn't know better, you would sometimes swear that it was _her_ and not Lavender you were kissing - you would swear that you thought of her in kisses.

But you always knew better.

-

Forget Krum.

Forget him.

Fucking _McLaggen?_

-

_Don't look at her._

-

You awake and everything's white and blurry and you could have sworn you were dead - but the angel above you touched your arm and was crying and it was all too real.

-

_"What were you doing up there with _her?"

Ah, you never really cared for purple anyways.

-

He had left and now she's crying out of worry and your sister's crying and you lean down to pull her into your arms and your nose fills with a woody scent with a touch of the aroma of new parchment.

You almost smile but you can't (what if he doesn't come back?).

-

You watch the white marble with a white face and you each over to her lap and grasp her hand, wet with clear tears.

Thus comes a new era.

**7.  
**It is the last happy day that you know you'll have for a while. Wedding bells chime and you dance close with her in her beautiful robes and beautiful skin and beautiful nose and beautiful eyes. Red with brown.

You see nothing else for a long time.

-

He doesn't know what to say; melancholy wind ruffles his black hair and her brown and your red.

You exchange a look with her and stand back a little as he pays his respects.

-

_"Harry – this bad mood isn't going to get you anywhere," she reprimands._

"_Yeah – if Voldemort comes, what're you gonna do – throw him a sulky look and tell him to come back later?" you quip._

"_... What did you just say?"_

-

You don't know what to do anymore; its a stalemate like in chess but only its real life now. No one is quite sure whether they're knights or pawns (but if she's the queen and he's the king what does that make you?).

-

The beach is lovely; it's been a while since a lovely day. You can almost convince yourself it's a vacation. You three are lounging by the beach, enjoying a quiet moment. Her back warms your arm and then your lips warm hers.

-

_You dream of her and now there's no pretending._

-

He just talked with you about her and had you promise not to hurt her lest you want a broken nose.

Laughing, you consented. He laughed too and it was refreshing because he had been looking so old and weary as of recently.

-

You two had been on watch but that had changed.

Smiling, your fingers run lightly over her bare shoulder, warmed by the rays; you wrap your arms around her stomach and lay a kiss on the back of her neck, curly hair brushing against your face.

-

You're a man

you don't cry

but

you wake up and she's lying next to you and her forehead's bleeding and she's not moving and he barely is and you can'tmovecan'tmovecan'tmove it hurts too much.

You move anyways, over her (and you don't cry because you're a man) but her warm breath isn't tickling your lips and her arms are cold and white and you know it already...

You (Ron) kiss her (Hermione) for the last time; two pairs of cold lips and your face is wet with more than sweat.

Thus ends an era.

**The End**

**

* * *

**

_sorry if it was a tad confusing. :P well? what'd you think?_


End file.
